


junkie!jon au

by gavorn



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, F/M, M/M, junkie!jon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gavorn/pseuds/gavorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of my junkie!jon au works.<br/>these are not in any sort of order. interpret as you wish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. landfill

you are two trainwrecks speeding towards each other on a collision course, and the truth is you cannot wait for the crash.

"jon," arin says. his voice is dull and rusty. "you're fucked up on something again, aren't you?" and you can't hear the question mark that used to be there. he knows you are fucked up on something again, and you know it too.  
he sighs, long and heavy. you stare at him. he shines brighter than the dim fluorescents. "let's get you home," he says, and there's not a question there either and you don't say a word for the rest of the night.  
the next day, you see him at school. you don't see him in the morning, because you get there late and you know arin and suzy always stop for coffee on the way to school [normally you're with them, though. not lately. not lately.] and you don't have any classes together because they're both seniors [leaving this year, says your head. they're leaving and you can't stop them] and you're a sophomore. too young for drinks, too young for drugs, too young for sex. too young, too young, too young. too young to die, probably. "what a pity," people will say, "what a pity"-  
you don't see arin until lunch, and when you do, you walk in, shadows under your eyes, needle scars in your veins, and arin is laughing when he looks up at you across the cafeteria-  
and his smile dims, his eyes get tired  
and older  
and sadder.  
and that's when you think, "i did that," and it gives you the same rushy feeling in your head as when you drink six shots of vodka, one after the other and the first one alone makes your throat burn but by the last you could've been drinking paint remover and the sensation wouldn't have been any more painful.  
so you turn around, and you let arin be alone, because he looks like he could use some time to be without you. you don't blame him for that.  
and you eat your lunch in a bathroom stall before throwing it up, and it's easier this way, really, because you don't have to move any more than turning around. 

\--  
after school, you lie in your room with the lights off and the door closed and your blackout curtains covering the windows.   
you wonder if you can try hard enough and slip unconscious. not for too long, maybe days, or weeks, or months. maybe you can hibernate like a bear and when you wake up everything will be okay again and you will still be the same fourteen year old with the Sonic backpack and bird shirts and Arin will still be the sixteen year old with sunshine in his smile.  
you are sixteen, and there are ashes in your veins and you only wear long sleeves now because you don't want people questioning you about the scars. arin is eighteen and all the sunshine is gone from his smile.   
you are never going to be the same.   
there's a knock on your door, and you don't wonder who it is. your parents got tired of pleading with you and screaming at you and they leave you alone now, mostly, really, so the only one who knocks on your door is arin. most of the time that makes you smile but you want to crawl further under the blankets and stay there until he leaves. you think you would rather not have arin at all than have him this way.   
"jon," he says, and NO NO GO AWAY PLEASE his voice cuts through your ears like steel and it feels like getting sober and you think you shouldn't have drank that flask of tequila in the back of your classroom last period.  
"i know you're in there," and he sounds tired and sad and   
"jon."  
"i'm coming in."  
you manage to talk. it surprises even you. "don't."  
[your voice is rusty and stiff and it sounds like cigarettes.]  
he comes in, anyway.  
you feel the light coming through the crack in the door in the split second before he closes it. it used to be warm, you think, but now it just feels sharp and harsh and too much. everything is too much.  
"i hate seeing you like this, you know," he says, and it's different from when everyone else says it when it's arin. he sounds like seeing you Like This is causing him pain right down his heart like the needles are puncturing his skin and not yours. you can hear him moving closer, but your head is under a pillow so you don't know what's on his face. you think you have a good guess, though.  
you feel the weight when he perches on the foot of your bed. he doesn't touch you, but there's barely an inch of space between you. it's soothing, having him there. you haven't felt this way since you were first friends and you had a nightmare and you thought he would tease you for it, but-he's arin. he didn't, of course, he shhhed you and talked low and soothing and rubbed his hand on your back until you fell asleep again. and you half wish he would do that now, but you know he won't.  
when you wake up, your clock says it is three in the morning, and he is gone. your bed is cold.  
\--  
the next day is a tuesday. you hate tuesdays, but you have history class with barry, who used to be your friend. you were close, too, practically grew up together. you stopped talking to him around the time you started doing heroin.   
you're assigned as partners on a project, and barry smiles at you the same way everyone does, small and sad and pitying but it's not nearly as painful as when arin does it. thinking of arin makes your head pound and your stomach spin, so you get a bathroom pass and pop some pills in the stall before throwing the remaining contents of your stomach.   
you sit with arin at lunch, but you don't talk to him because he's sitting between suzy and danny at the other end of the table. danny is probably good for arin. better than you are. you are doing far more hurt than help.  
but it still stings when arin laughs at something danny said, high and clear, cutting through to your on the other side of the table. you think about sleepy basement kisses, and you think about video games and cuddling, and you think about wanting that back. and you think, I am not going to do anything about that, because you're not.   
and you don't.


	2. human

Jon wants so bad, so bad, it aches and hurts deep in his veins more than the needles ever could because those at least offer relief after the pain and Arin just hurts and hurts and nothing will ever make it okay again.  
Arin is a sickness Jon cannot shake, fuck AA, he needs Arinics Anonymous because Arin hates when people say [x]holic because the hol comes from alcohol, fuck, can't they get anything right? And Jon knows all of it, all those little things that make him upset because Jon and Arin have learned every inch of each other's skins, and Jon knows every scar, every freckle on Arin's body. Arin, maybe not. He looks and Jon and sees only the scarred arms and legs and veins, and the shadows under his eyes, and he doesn't look any closer than he has to. He doesn't tell people how he feels anymore because they don't believe that Arin doesn't mean to hurt him, really, honestly, if anyone's at fault here it's him because Jon is stupid and broken and Arin doesn't need that in his life. Arin doesn't need Jon in his life, he doesn't have to deal with him but because Jon is clingy and jealous and bitter he deals with him anyway. So Jon figures it's okay for Arin to hurt him, because Jon's nothing that Arin ever asked to have.   
Jon doesn't pray anymore, but if he did, he'd pray for Arin. He would sit hands clasped eyes closed every night of every day if it meant having Arin. 

One night he showed up at Arin's drunk, and Arin wasn't home but Suzy was and she looked at him with pity in her eyes and shhed his sobs and wiped the vomit off his face. When Jon woke up, he was on Arin's couch, and he heard things like "Why is he here?" and "He showed up and I couldn't make him leave, Arin."   
Jon slips out the door when he wakes, hangover pounding in his head with every step, and doesn't say anything to Arin.   
Three days later Jon finally shows up at school, and Arin glares fury-sharp at him across the school. Jon throws up in a bathroom stall.  
"I didn't want it to be like this," says the note he gets from Suzy during English. Jon starts to write "I didn't want it to be like this either" and "I never meant for this to happen" and "can you tell Arin I just"  
He scribbles out the words and snaps his pencil in half. Suzy understands. 

Jon trades Arin for little white pixels up his nose and he wishes he could trade it back.

 

Indoors, obviously, everything is nerdy in the best way, there are no white dresses but Jon stands at the altar next to Arin.  
He wakes up just before he says "I do." 

Jon corners Arin in the hallway and Jon says, "I had a dream about marrying you last night."  
Arin scowls. "Fuck off, Jon." 

Jon wants to let Arin's nails trace his skin, leave marks like spiderwebs. Arin never leaves a stain. There is never proof of his touch beyond half-dreamed memories and shuddered gasps that Jon plays on rewind trying desperately not to forget.

Jon wants   
Jon wants  
Jon wants

Jon loves Arin in twisting turns and shadows, in deepest, farthest reaches and collapsed lungs.

 

Arin is something sacred and holy, something ivory and gold and he burns Jon's filthy fingers when they rake down his back. 

There is something quiet and dark when Jon catches Arin glancing at him across the hall, it's cool, it's distant, there is nothing there to suggest Jon has ever been more than a stranger to him. He's going to make him remember, fuck, Arin, please, he can't have forgotten everything already, maybe Jon's hands around his wrists will remind him that this has always been something no matter how hard Arin can try to forget.   
Maybe Jon can pick up the pieces and make this all okay again, and they can forget the bad and the hurt and blisters and scars and it will heal and they will be whole again.

Jon tries to corner Arin, but Barry and Ross are paparazzis around every turn and Suzy is glued to Arin's side, and Jon can't blame any of them, because he knows what they are trying to do. He can't exactly 

Jon hates himself for wanting, he hates himself so bad


	3. still

arin's like- a fever dream, sometimes. like he comes to you when you're down with the cold sweats from withdrawal in the middle of the night. you dream his arms around you and you don't shake quite as much.  
when you finally show up to school, he doesn't look at you. his eyes go straight past you like you're not even there.  
you may as well not be.  
when you see him after school, you show up at his house in the pouring rain, and he meets you outside. it should feel like your teen romance moment, kissing in the rain, but he doesn't take the half step forward. he stares at you with a look on his face that's something like disgust. you want to be better, for him. you want to deserve him. but since you know you never will, you don't bother to try.   
he glares at you, mutters "come inside, the neighbors are staring."   
once you're inside, you lunge forward, attach your lips to his neck.  
he doesn't smile, but he doesn't pull you off, either. you figure you can consider it progress.   
when you drag him to his bed, he strips quickly, businesslike. he doesn't kiss you, but he lets you kiss him.   
"arin," you say, increasingly desperate. maybe you're taking advantage of him. you don't think he'd let you, though.  
suzy comes home, and you hear the door, hear her high heels on the tile, but you pretend not to notice. arin doesn't react.  
"your mouth tastes like cigarettes," arin says, curling his lip.   
you bite back a laugh, knowing that he'd just get angry. he doesn't seem to mind so much when your lips are on his dick, but that's just as much for your benefit as his, so you keep quiet. if he notices, he doesn't say anything.


End file.
